Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng…

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the girl Adrien sat in front of at school. She was the girl who adored fashion and the color pink. That was it.

Well, not entirely…

Sometimes, when his mind wandered during class, his eyes drifted around the room inspecting the classmates that surrounded him. He reveled in the feeling of belonging in the place. It was like a home away from home if you could consider the mansion to be home in the first place.

Today, Nino sat next to him as typical, eyes glued to the board or his phone. Chloe and Sabrina sat across the aisle, the former staring lazily at the chalkboard, the latter furiously scribbling down what looked to be extensive notes. Behind Adrien sat Marinette and Alya.

Sometimes, all he could hear was the scratching of a pencil, and other days, giggling and whispered conversations. He sometimes eavesdropped if they were loud enough, a habit he couldn’t shake.

Once he even heard her pun in history. The teacher had just announced that there would be a pop quiz, causing Alya to moan in frustration.

“Oh, come on. Girl, I have been so busy the past few nights that I didn’t even study! What am I going to do?”

“Oh Alya, don’t let this pop quiz burst your bubble, you’ll be okay. You do pretty well in history!” replied Marinette.

Adrien couldn’t focus for the rest of class.

Today, though, the room was quiet. The only sounds heard were the scritch-scratches of pencils and shuffling of pages as Miss Bustier explained the Napoleonic Age.

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On the second day of school, he remembered dropping his pencil in chemistry class, where it rolled down the steps, stopping next to Marinette's foot.

"Hey, um, could you pass me my pencil...?" he pointed to the yellow pencil lying on the musty carpet. Marinette jumped a little when he spoke, turning to face him.

She stared at him for a second with her big sky-blue eyes as if he were speaking another language. He glanced away nervously under her stare. Did she not forgive him? He thought they made up yesterday!

Adrien began apologizing immediately, "Sorry, nevermind, I'll just get-"

"Um, Blur! I mean, s-sure! Umm, sorry, yeah, okay..." Interrupted Marinette. She continued muttering under her breath as she jerkily picked up the pencil and passed it to him. In the back of his mind, Adrien noticed the rosy flush bloom across her face as their hands brushed. Her hands were small and spindly. Despite how delicate they looked, calluses covered them and scars pockmarked her fingertips, strata that depicted each needle-prick from sewing.

Flustered, Adrien sat back down with a thanks, breaking eye contact.

It was the first time that she started stuttering around him. He could empathize.

When Adrien was young, he would falter around the big, important people his father tried to introduce him to. Most of the words coming out of his mouth were choppy and uneven. Sometimes, he wouldn’t speak for the whole encounter or event. He remembered hiding behind his father or mother, whoever was with him then.

If it was Mother, he might be escorted away to another room.

“Remember, love, people won't hurt you, not as long as I’m around to stop them.” Mother said at his first gala, tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Like a knight in shining armor?”

“Like your knight in shining armor, my little prince.” she ruffled Adrien’s hair affectionately.

If it was Father, then he could expect to be pushed along with a pat on the back or a faint squeeze on the shoulder.

Even that reaction was more than what he got from his father nowadays.

Adrien shook his head, clearing those cobwebby thoughts that came from the back of his mind. Adrien thought that he could generally understand Marinette’s attitude towards him. He was someone she was generally uncomfortable with. Someone that she didn’t know well, someone that intimidated her.

He didn't think she necessarily disliked him; she just liked him less than their other classmates.

Why though?

He knew she had a bad history with kids like him (ie. Chloe). Chloe targeted Marinette specifically from what he heard, so that could explain why the rest of the class was much more comfortable around him. And she liked fashion! Any admiration for his father may seem like a deterrent too, maybe.

So would she ever be ready to be friends?

Adrien Agreste was anything but a quitter. Ladybug herself mentioned how persistent he was when something was stuck in his mind (like her).

So he was going to be friends with Marinette no matter what. Once they knew each other better, they could become closer and better friends. BEST friends.

But a nasty little voice in the back of his mind whispered, ‘What if she knows you and doesn’t like what she sees?’

Chapter Text

1: Make small talk, but don’t get stuck on it.

***

Okay, the first step to becoming better friends with small talk.

Last night, right before he went to bed, Adrien searched up how to socialize with shy people. He found a couple tips and tricks that he wrote down inside of his school notebook. Now, it was all up to him to start doing.

Commence Day 1 of Operation BFFs.

After being dropped off, Adrien greeted Nino and Alya, who were already waiting by the front steps. Marinette would probably take a while to arrive, so they would wait as long as they could.

Inside his jacket pocket, Adrien felt Plagg laugh at his jitters, which had been manifesting in the form of shaky knees. This prompted him to cough to cover up the noise. Nino gave him a strange look at his fake-sounding cough but quickly brought his attention back to Alya and her newest Ladyblog post.

Adrien put up a mental sticky note to give Plagg pasteurized cheese today.

Finally, Adrien could see a distant figure running towards them, a croissant stuffed in her mouth, and her backpack still dangling from her arms as she fought to shove a book in. Adrien stifled a laugh, opting for a polite smile instead. Marinette was always in these comical situations that made him want to laugh.

Laugh with her, he corrected. Not at her. He meant it in a nice way. Friends laughed at each others' unfortunate struggles…right?

Marinette skidded to a stop, zipped her bag, and swung it over her shoulder. She tore the croissant out of her mouth and began chewing.

“Hey guys! How late am I?”

“Not bad!” Alya replied, “We’ve got five minutes before the bell rings. Better head up.”

As they began their trek towards class, Adrien turned to Marinette. So far, she seemed pretty at ease. Nino and Alya were talking about comics in front, leaving Marinette pattering along behind them.

Adrien stifled a sigh as he watched how Nino and Alya’s faces lit up the way they did whenever they were near each other. Affection shone in their eyes, their hands gesturing towards Alya’s phone. That was something Adrien wished he could have. Something he wished he could give and get back in return…

But never mind that! This was a small 2-minute window, and he was going to make the best of it. Bracing himself, he sidled up to Marinette. Remember, no dragging small talk, don’t be boring. She likes fashion, start with that, he told himself.

“Hey, Marinette!” greeted Adrien, plastering a bright smile on his face. “You’ve been working on any cool projects lately?” His smile faltered as she yelped, startled. This was already off to a bad start.

“Uhm, wha?” questioned Marinette. Her soft blue eyes gazed up at him, her face like that of a deer caught in headlights.

“Like, have you been, um, designing any new dresses recently?”

“Yes?” Her voice went up extremely high at the end, and she quickly looked away. An awkward lull threatened to take over the conversation. Adrien’s eyes darted around as he tried to think of something to say. They landed on some embroidery on her light pink skirt.

“Did you make- sew that embroidery?” he asked. Relief flooded him as her eyes lit up when she looked at where he was pointing.

“Yeah, actually,” Marinette tentatively met his eyes, “It’s just some standard cotton embroidery floss. I found these beautiful colors at the craft store-” Marinette’s voice cracked as his attentive gaze began to feel a little overbearing, but she struggled on, “-and they looked so p-pretty I knew I had to get them.”

“Cool! What kind of flower is it supposed to be? Or is it just some generic flower…?”

“No, actually. It’s a plum blossom. I like to embroider them on everything, maybe because they’re the only thing I can embroider well!” she laughed. Ah, self-deprecating humor, one of her last resort defenses.

“Oh, don’t say that. I’ve seen you wear embroidery of leaves and stuff, and they all look beautiful.” It was true, he had seen the wonderful detailing of her stitches on her own clothes many times before, forming images of forget-me-nots and even the Parisian skyline.

Marinette blushed, a bashful grin spreading over her face. He noticed her handiwork?

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

Chapter Text

2: Focus on your surroundings: When starting to feel unsure about yourself during a conversation, focus on the world around you and ground yourself.

***

Adrien repeated this like a mantra. He hadn’t expected to be so nervous yesterday when talking to Marinette. Still, her quietness was enough to make him feel very awkward. He would enjoy NOT being awkward, so he muttered “Ground yourself” under his breath as he and Nino walked over to the atrium. Though he quickly shut up when Nino gave him a strange look.

“Dude, you okay?” Nino raised an eyebrow quizzically.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine! Peachy keen!” Adrien slammed his mouth shut, hoping nothing else left his mouth.

He could already spy Marinette and Alya at the top of the stairs chatting. Time to talk some more. Channel your Chat Noir, he told himself.

The girls greeted them as they reached the spot where they were standing. Adrien shivered as a cool breeze blew through his jacket. Autumn was already on its way, seen in the tinges of yellow and red that colored the trees.

Nino greeted the girls, “Hey dudes, guess what? Adrien over here convinced his dad to let him go out for some fro-yo on Friday!”

“Yup, it’s true!” Adrien chimed in. He held up the phone like a trophy, displaying the text from Nathalie.

Alya squealed, “Finally! I knew your dad had to cave in eventually.” She shuffled around in her pockets before drawing out her phone. “By the way, did you see the latest battle?” She finished furiously typing on her phone to show them footage of the latest akuma

The akuma was a giant beast looking similar to a yellow pinata. Apparently, some interior designer had gotten very mad about receiving some incorrect paint colors (“That’s Daisy Heart yellow!! I said FIREFLY yellow, you imbecile!!”). Or at least, that was what Adrien had been teasing the poor akuma about. In hindsight, maybe he should have been a tad lighter on the jokes - the akuma got SO mad that it exploded like a real one, unleashing little candy minions crawling out of its giant mouth. Yes, Saturday’s akuma was indeed a fever dream.

Anyways. Back to the present.

By now, Alya and Nino had entered some raging argument, though they were clearly trying not to laugh. Marinette stood, watching them debate with a little smile on her face. Her eyes didn’t quite look at them though, but past them, glazed over as mysterious thoughts danced through her head (Adrien didn’t know this, but Marinette was daydreaming about the fabric store restocking this Saturday).

Adrien leaned in towards Marinette, “Do you know what they’re going on about this time?” Marinette skipped back a little, clearly surprised with his talking to her. Adrien felt a little guilty at this; he should’ve spoken to her more often.

“U-um, I think they’re having an argument about Super Penguino. Something about which character is the most OP.” she snorted, adding derisively “Obviously it doesn’t matter, any character can become OP if you practice with it enough.” She mostly muttered it under her breath, not expecting Adrien to pick up on it.

“Yeah, but some characters actually have some powers that are, like, WAY. Better, I mean, just look at Roloc Penguin.” Adrien countered.

“I-what?!”

“His sledgehammer literally obliterates half a life. If that’s not overpowered, I don’t know what is.” Adrien continued.

Marinette chuckled at his hilariously poor argument. Someone challenging her? To an argument about video games? Adrien must have a death wish.

“Oh Adrien, you silly goose. Roloc Penguin has, like, NO mobility at all whatsoever. He can only really do damage long-distance, and that move is the only good one he has. I could beat someone playing him with the Flairy Penguin!”

“NO. You did NOT.” Adrien mock gasped, placing his hand over his heart in shock

Marinette chuckled, adding “Yup, I did” (Nobody likes Flairy Penguin)

On the inside, Confident Mari cheered on. Look at her go! She was talking without stuttering! Joking with ADRIEN!! Of course, the realization of who she was talking to immediately halted her giggles

What was she thinking? She was actually arguing with Adrien?! Did he think that her laughter was condescending? Did she hurt his feelings? How could she hurt his feelings that quickly, she thought they were joking-

Adrien looked over from where he was basking in the glow of her laughter, noticing it had stopped.

“What’s wrong?” He almost reached out one hand to her before changing his mind. He wasn’t sure they were close enough for that yet.

Sweeping shame rushed over Marinette. It was so easy to forget to watch what she was saying. “Nothing, nothing, I-I needed to go, I need to go, I have something to do back at home tha-at I forgot to do! Um, bye guys!” She stammered, wincing as her words came out shaky and weak. She quickly turned around, nearly stumbling once(then twice) on the way down.

Adrien watched Marinette in concern and she tripped her way down the stairs. Twice his muscles tensed, ready to grab her from a nasty fall, but she seemed to handle it herself, and he found himself watching her grow smaller and smaller until she disappeared into the pedestrian traffic.

Turning around, he found Alya and Nino staring at him with matching smirks on their faces (though Alya’s was a bit more manic).

“What? What’s going on?” He gave them a suspicious look. He did NOT like the look on their faces.

“Nothing, bro. We just came to an agreement.”

Chapter Text

Adrien paced around his room, his mind swirling with thoughts of today’s afternoon.

His room looked pristine, peaceful even, with late afternoon light brightening the walls. It was nothing like his mind.

He and Marinette had been talking. They were joking together like friends should. She was laughing. And then, she just… shut down. It was like a shield had come back over her face, and nervous, uncomfortable Marinette came back, leaving him with only a glimpse of the girl underneath.

She didn’t treat him like Chloe, whom he knew she disliked. Did he scare her in some strange way that Chloe didn’t? And it made him wonder, not for the first time: Was it his fault?

Before Adrien could sink deeper in his thoughts, a small black creature swung into view, carrying a large piece of triple crème camembert and frowning at him.

“Kid, you look like pasteurized cheese, you’re so pale. Is it Pigtails?”

“W-what? No! Just thinking about a school assignment, yeah.” Adrien could feel the tip of his ears burn, and Plagg saw it.

“Hah! It IS Pigtails! I knew it! What, you thinking about how amazing your little girlfriend is-”

“Shut up Plagg, she’s not my girlfriend!” Adrien yelled, plugging his ears like a two year old..

Plagg raised his voice even louder, flitting around Adrien, and continued in a falsetto, “Pigtails is awesome, Pigtails likes pink, ohhhhhh Pigtails, Pigtails, Pigtails!” He broke off into laughter, clutching his stomach.

“I DON’T sound like that! Marinette wears pink, like, every day! And Marinette is just a friend.”

Plagg groaned in annoyance, “ How many times have I heard you say that before! And then you-“ Plagg broke off at his grumbling stomach.

“Bro, you JUST had cheese.”

Adrien stomped over to the cheese fridge, his mind off his own mistakes for the moment.

*******************************

Marinette thunked her forehead in defeat. It was official: she was going to be a hermit for the rest of her life.

“Marinette, you did nothing wrong,” Tikki soothed, settling upon her shoulder. “You were having a perfectly normal conversation.” She paused before adding drily, “though you running away might constitute as ‘weird’.”

Marinette groaned in annoyance, knowing that she was right.

It seemed that any way she looked at their conversation, she did something wrong. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so rude. If she believed Tikki, who said she wasn’t rude, then she was being a scaredy cat.

“Honestly, I'm surprised that he even sees me as a friend, with how little I actually speak to him.” The words were dry and sarcastic, but the fears they covered were very, very real.

Marinette, for the past month, had been working to get over her crush on Adrien. But boy, oh boy, was he making it difficult. Her improvements were slight, shown by today’s embarrassing conversation.

She had figured that she wasn’t ever going to be with him, as much as she wished. She was Ladybug-protector of Paris and all that. And honestly? The idea of not being in love with him seemed liberating. She wouldn’t have to worry about his reactions to confessions if she never confessed in the first place. She wouldn’t have to second-guess his kind nature every time she thought about telling him how she feels.

Because Marinette couldn’t get rid of the image of his kind face contorting into something cruel, of his laughter turning bitter and spiteful.

Marinette used to think this way about everyone. Way back when Alya hadn’t arrived and rescued her, she was a lonely girl who talked to a couple folks. She had some acquaintances, but otherwise…

Ack, there was no point getting stuck in the past now. She’d might as well watch grass grow, for all the good it’d do her. It was better this way. Being friends with Adrien is one of the best things that could’ve ever happened to her. She needed to get over him - it was the only way to fulfill her duty towards Paris.

Of course, her brain understood all this. But it’d be nice if her heart could too. Every time she saw him, she could feel the air brighten up. His eyes were so wide and trusting and so, so, kind. He was cool, and funny, and he made her laugh… there was just something about him that drew her in. What’s a poor girl supposed to do about that?